


maintenance

by swancharmings



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:21:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24927625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swancharmings/pseuds/swancharmings
Summary: In which Harvey shares his shower, just not the way he wants. Set sometime around 5.06/5.07. One-shot.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36





	maintenance

**Author's Note:**

> This is dumb and silly and one of the first things I ever wrote, actually, and I discovered it again and finally finished it. Please enjoy :)
> 
> Thanks to Alyssa for the beta, I love you more!

A knock on Harvey’s door at ten o’clock on a weekday wasn’t all that unheard of, but Donna Paulsen on the threshold wearing a t-shirt and leggings most definitely was.

He raises his eyebrows, opening his mouth to say something, but she cuts him off before he can even take a breath.

“They shut my water off,” Donna sighs as she breezes past him into his foyer. He blinks and the door swings closed.

“What?”

She turns to face him, and he can’t help but notice her hair. It sits in a messy blob on the top of her head with flyaways framing her face. Soft tendrils brush her bare neck, curling under her ears.

It takes him a moment to realize she’s still speaking.

“—and, apparently, fixing Mr. Desmonie’s kitchen sink just couldn’t wait until the weekend.” She looks at him expectantly. “So?”

Harvey tilts his head. “So...”

“Can I shower here?”

Shower.

Here.

“Sure,” he finds himself saying.

Donna closes her eyes in relief. “Thank God. I’ll be quick, I swear. You won’t even know I’m here.”

Here.

As in, his shower.

On the opposite wall of his bedroom.

With all of ten feet and some very thin glass separating them.

“I won’t?” he asks as he tosses her a towel from the closet. “You mean, you won’t sing like last time?”

“I—“ her face turns beet red. “I didn’t think you were awake.”

He smirks. “Wide awake.”

They stare for a beat too long before Donna coughs and cocks her head in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ll just...”

He nods, and the door clicks shut.

“You might want to leave it open, you know, for the steam.”

“Fuck you,” comes the muffled reply.

He snickers and tries to think of anything other than Donna Paulsen, naked in his apartment for the very first time.

Except — he can’t.

Because the shower is running and Donna is very much naked.

Fuck.

It doesn’t help matters that he still knows every curve, every crevice, every single solitary freckle like it was yesterday. He knows what makes her moan and sigh and scream his name.

He turns the volume on the TV up to an obnoxious level. There is no way he’s making it through tonight without a  _ very  _ cold shower first.

And that’s the first thing Harvey does the minute Donna leaves, a blur of cozy sweats and strawberry shampoo —  _ strawberry _ — and he’s never been so damn impatient to get Donna out of his apartment in his life.

But there is a problem.

His shower still smells like her. It’s as though she’s there, enveloping him, and it’s all too much.

He feels...dirty, jerking off in the shower after she’d just used it, as his friend, for pure PG purposes.

But he either takes care of this now, or loses sleep to the images of her in his brain, and, well. Harvey is nothing if not efficient.

——

It doesn’t make any difference. Harvey has at least four different dreams about fucking Donna in the shower, and for the first time he thanks god and anyone who’s listening that she isn’t outside his office any more, because he’s not sure he could take it.

——

It happens again.

She approaches his desk at the end of the day. He gets one whiff of her shampoo and his hard-on nearly returns.  _ Jesus Christ. _

“Is your shower available tonight?” Donna asks casually, arms crossed in front of her.

He frowns. “Still not fixed?”

“No. And I’m pissed about it. I  _ really  _ want a bath. The  _ one _ thing that your apartment doesn’t have, a fully functioning tub.”

“I don’t take baths,” Harvey scoffs, stacking the files on his desk.

“You might enjoy them.”

“Pass.”

“Tell you what — when my water’s fixed, come over and I’ll draw you a bath. You’ll see.”

He gives her a coy smile. “Is Donna Paulsen included?”

“Oh, you wish,” she shoots back, grinning at him from over her shoulder. “I’ll be over at ten.”

He knows she’s teasing, but he also knows he’d take a bath any day of the week if she joined him.

——

A week passes and Donna knocks on his door every night at ten o’clock without fail. Primps and pampers herself in his en-suite, then leaves him very much high and not-so-dry.

Sometimes in sweats, sometimes in her matching silk pajamas, and once — one incredibly aggravating time — in nothing but  _ his _ sweats because she forgot a change of clothes.

And every night, after his front door closes and her scent lingers in the wide open space, he steps into the steaming shower and strokes himself to thoughts of her, like some kind of sex-deprived teenager. Pathetic.

They’re finally back on decent terms after he made an ass of himself, and if he’s not careful he fears he’ll fuck it all up again if she gets one look at his burgeoning erection.

Wanting the sex is easy; that’s not all he wants, though, and he knows it. And it scares the shit out of him.

The sex, the physical, he can deal with.  _ Has _ dealt with, since that night in the bar.

He doesn’t dare venture into the emotional.

But lately, the physical and emotional have become so intertwined, to the point where  _ I love you _ slips off his tongue as easily as her name after an orgasm.

This — sharing the shower — is downright domestic, and it’s confusing and daunting but tempting as all hell.

The week goes on, and Donna’s none the wiser.

On Friday, he snaps.

On Friday, she leaves the door open.

On Friday, he stays late at the office and doesn’t realize she’s already at his apartment, in his shower.

Donna didn’t mention anything to him about coming over tonight. So he’s surprised — to say the least — to see her naked outline through the foggy glass when he turns the corner on autopilot.

He yells.

She screams.

He’s trying to control his breathing when she comes barreling out of the bathroom, tying her robe hastily around her dripping frame.

“What the hell, Harvey!”

He blinks at her outburst. “ _ Me?! _ Donna, what the fuck!”

“The shower was  _ running _ , Harvey.”

She looks — she looks like she’s about to  _ laugh _ .

He continues, more flustered than before. “You didn’t tell me you were coming over! For Christ’s sake, what kind of maintenance crew do you have over there? I’ll fucking sue them myself. It’s been what, a week? All the while you’re in there and I’m trying not to —“

He backtracks, bites his tongue before he can say more, because he’s already said too fucking much. Slumps on his couch and runs his fingers through his hair in frustration.

Silence. Then he’s completely confused, because she walks to stand in front of him as her lips tug around a smirk.

“Harvey.”

He looks up warily.

Donna lets go of the belt around her waist, the fastening undone, robe hanging loosely off her shoulders.

“My water’s been fixed since Tuesday.”

He balks. Opens his mouth, then closes it, eyes flitting between her smug face and the sliver of pale skin on display.

She narrows her eyes playfully. “You  _ really _ think I don’t know what I do to you?”

He clears his throat, a pitiful sound. “Well, I—“

“I had to give you a nudge. Took you long enough.”

She... is a goddamned good actress.

_ Holy fuck. _

“Donna,” he says in awe, in reverence, and those two syllables are filled with everything he couldn’t say before. Her smile grows tenfold.

Reaching for his hand, she adds, “You may not have a bathtub, but I think your shower includes Donna Paulsen tonight.”

And when he’s pressing her up against the tile, sliding home, hands in her strawberry shampoo-lathered hair, he knows he’ll never want to shower alone again.


End file.
